THIS I BELIEVE ESSAY
I believe in my violin. And as long as I have “him” I don’t need anything else. It’s like my child. To the point that whenever I have to take him somewhere I put him in the back seat ( I wouldn’t want him to get hit by the air-bag if I were to be in a car accident) of my car and strap the seat belt on him. Now he is no fancy or expensive violin, but after all he is my violin. It is amazing, all we’ve gone through together.
Like this past summer when I got to perform in Carnegie Hall, playing my violin of course. Stepping onto the stage and looking at one of the most famous concert halls in the world, with tears running down my face and all because I could play this wonderful instrument.
I spent my entire senior year of high school preparing for that concert, with my violin in my hands 24/7. After getting up and getting ready for school the first thing I would do is take out my violin and begin practicing, at 6:15 a.m. to 9:20 a.m. and from 5 p.m. to 8:30 p.m., Monday thru Friday. There were times were all I wanted to do was throw my violin out the window. Luckily I didn’t. I went through the whole year carrying my violin, looking like a huge nerd. I look at all the experiences I’ve had thanks to my violin, and I am grateful I had the opportunity to learn how to play it, and through the years be a part of an amazing orchestra.
I believe that my violin has been and always will be my faithful companion and best friend. Even though of course he is just an object and he can’t hear me, the amazing thing is I can hear him and every time I do it always makes me feel better.
What is even better is that not only do I enjoy playing, but people can enjoy the music. Regardless of race, color, age, economic status, sex, or religion music is universal. The emotions I have felt performing are numerous but the emotions the audiences have had are countless. Watching people cry with a certain piece of music is enormously gratifying. And to think its all thanks to a piece of wood, now that’s magical!
About a month ago my house caught on fire. All I was told was that we couldn’t live there until it was all cleaned out and disinfected and that I should only go inside and get the most essential things I needed. By this the firefighters meant like clothes, shoes, my books and such, but all I went inside to get was my violin. Once I had my violin I knew I would find a solution to the rest of my problems.
With such a gift there is only one last thing I can ask for, and that is to be buried with my violin when I die.
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